by Nigel Smith
“What’s that smell?” said Darius. Nat ignored him.
“We’re not actually going to call it a Dosh-a-Thon,” said Dad. “But basically, it’s a live celebrity online pet home eviction night fundraiser,” said Dad.
“Not as catchy as ‘Dosh-a-Thon’,” said Darius.
“We’ll work on the title,” said Dad, writing something on a pad. “The plan is, we just raise the money to buy the land from the council so the developers can’t get it. Simple.”
“A million quid?” said Porter Ogden. He had the sort of tone of voice Nat recognised. It was mostly total disbelief with a note of ‘Are you taking the mickey?’ on top. It was the way Mum said: “HOW fast did you say I was going, officer?” to traffic policemen.
“Be sensible,” continued Porter Ogden. That’s rich, coming from you, thought Nat, bearing in mind your idea of a great life is to share your home with several hundred of the world’s most horrible creatures. “No one is going to give you a million quid.”
“We don’t need one person to give you a million quid,” said Dad.
“No,” said Darius. “We need one million people to give you one quid.”
“How are you going to find one million people to give me a quid?” said Mr Ogden.
Dad tapped the laptop.
“Cyber-crime?” said Mr Ogden hopefully.
“Of course not,” said Dad.
“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” whispered Darius.
“No,” said Dad. “Stick to plan A. We’re doing a live, twenty-four-hour charity fundraiser! On the inter cyber-space web, from this very house! It’ll be great.”
He turned to Mr Ogden. “We’ll have famous guests, we’ll do films about the animals, we’ll interview you and your neighbours – actually, no, let’s not interview your neighbours, they all hate you – and everyone donates a pound and you’re saved!”
“The best of it is – we’ve already got our live host – Nat the bath-bomb … er, I mean, Nat the Normal Girl!”
“You what?” said Nat.
“Your last video got two million hits. OK, it was a little bit horribly embarrassing, but people liked it. You get recognised, you get free stuff, you get fan letters from mad people. That makes you a star. Good causes need stars and we need you.”
Nat sighed dramatically, mostly for effect. “OK, I’ll do it!”
Darius and Dad whooped and high-fived.
“When is it?” she asked.
“This Saturday,” said Dad. “It’s the last possible day we can do it before the council start bulldozing next week.”
Nat’s blood turned cold. “Um. Actually, I can’t. I promised Mum I wouldn’t do any more videos or anything else to make me famous. Sorry.”
“Nothing to do with the fact that Saturday night is Flora stupid Marling’s stupid party then?” said Darius.
“Oh, I’d totally forgotten about that!” fibbed Nat, thinking I’ll get you later, Bagley.
“I know you don’t want to be famous any more, but we can’t do it without you, love,” said Dad.
There was a long pause. Even Simba stopped munching on some poor, slower creature to listen.
“Yeah, you can!” said Nat, leaping up excitedly. She had just come up with A BRILLIANT AND AWESOME PLAN.
“I know people who LIKE being famous,” she said. “They just love it. The sort of people who can get a million hits before breakfast. In fact, Vernon the Cereal Guy gets ten million hits for just eating his breakfast, but that’s because he eats it through his nose.”
“What are you talking about?” said Dad.
“It’s probably the fumes from the sewers,” said Porter Ogden. “With all the animals, the air gets so foul sometimes I start babbling and seeing things too.”
“There’s Pretty Penny, who teaches you how to put make-up on. She gets twenty million new followers when she opens a packet of eyeshadow. There’s Hashtag Naturally Fab who shows you what face to pull when you’re taking selfies – she’s great. Oh, and Lip Balm Cutie, Vintage Veronica, and Sweary Mary, who tells you how many times people say rude words in a film. Hilarious.”
“Who are these horrible people?” said Dad. “I don’t want you being friends with any of them.”
But Darius understood what Nat was on about, and had some ideas of his own:
“Don’t forget Doom Ninja Pete, the man who blows things up. His last vlog got fifty million. Mind you, he did explode a camel.”
“Vlog?” said Porter Ogden, confused.
“Video blog,” said Dad, proud of himself for vaguely understanding something modern. “It’s the language of us young people.”
“I understand the word video …” said Porter Ogden, still confused.
Nat was properly excited now. “And I’ve finally got an excuse to message Dinky Blue, Girl Guru!” she said, clapping her hands.
“I know these are words,” said Mr Ogden. “I just don’t know what they mean.”
“Basically, there are tons of people who are mega-famous online,” Nat explained. “Much more famous than me.”
“If you say so, but I’ve never heard of them,” said Porter Ogden.
“It’s a different famous,” explained Dad. “It’s like a secret famous.”
“I think your family is madder than my family,” said Porter Ogden. “And my grandfather went over Niagara Falls in a barrel.”
“Why?” asked Dad.
“Well, he wasn’t going to go over without one, was he?”
“Anyway,” said Nat, trying to get them back on track, “the point is that the web is stuffed with loads and loads of people who are super way more famous than Nat the Normal Girl could ever be. They love being famous. I’ll just get one of them to do it.”
HAT NIGHT, NAT SENT MESSAGES TO ALL her favourite vloggers, asking for help. She started with the boring girl who just filmed herself taking new things out of boxes, and went all the way up to the awesome Girl Guru herself, Dinky Blue.
Darius even made her send a message to the awful Doom Ninja Pete.
“How long is Darius actually suspended for?” Dad shouted through the loo door that night.
“I dunno,” said Nat, who was standing on the landing. “Anyway, I’m not talking to you when you’re on the loo, it’s disgusting.”
“I have to talk to you on the loo – someone’s put superglue on the seat,” shouted Dad. “I say someone, but it doesn’t take Judge Judy to work out who’s guilty.”
Nat couldn’t stop herself giggling.
Dad was quite cross by the time he came downstairs, but fortunately Darius had worked out how to unscramble the movie channels on telly and get Dad’s favourite films for free, so instead of shouting, Dad got himself a pork pie out of the fridge and settled down to watch Aliens vs Cowboys on a big soft cushion instead.
Mum came home later that night and asked Nat how she was getting on with not being famous any more.
“Did you follow my advice and get rid of all those silly gifts you were sent?” Mum said as they tucked into their Chinese takeaway.
“I did,” admitted Nat, crunching on a spring roll. “But it made things worse. People follow me around expecting presents now.”
“I meant give them away to charity, not to your silly new friends,” said Mum with a sigh. “I don’t want you turning into Mimsy.”
“Mum!” said Nat, horrified that Mum could even think of comparing her to the horrible spoiled daughter of Dad’s friend Posh Barry. “You know Mimsy is the very last person in the world that I want to be.”
“I know that,” said Mum gently, giving Nat a hug. “Apart from any of your nan’s friends, of course. You definitely don’t want to be one of them.”
Nat giggled. Bad News Nan’s friends all seemed to catch revolting diseases that Nan liked to describe during Sunday dinner. Sometimes she brought photos. Dad said she was just making sure there’d be tons of leftovers.
“I thought being famous might make me popular,” admitted Nat. She coul
d talk about this stuff to Mum. “But now Penny hardly speaks to me, the other girls talk behind my back and I don’t even know if I’m still invited to Flora Marling’s secret birthday pool party sleepover any more as she hasn’t spoken to me for ages.”
“Have you asked her?” said Mum.
“You don’t just go up to Flora Marling and talk to her!” said Nat. “You have to wait for her to talk to you. Anyway, I wish I’d never done that stupid dance video in the first place,” said Nat. “I’ll be famous forever now.”
“Oh no, fame never lasts,” said Mum. “There’s a ton of old pop stars who work in burger vans, or models who stack the shelves at Aldi. The man who brings the sandwiches to my office used to have his own TV series. And now he’s getting told off for bringing me white bread when I plainly told him I wanted wholemeal.”
“You’re not really making me feel better here, Mum,” said Nat.
Darius and the Dog started a howling competition in the garden.
“How long is he suspended for?” asked Mum.
“Dunno,” said Nat. “Can I tell you a secret, though? It’s great having Darius here. Did you hear he superglued—?”
“Yes, I heard.”
“And have you seen his trick where he—?”
“He’s not a pet,” said Mum sternly.
“I know. He’s not even house-trained,” giggled Nat.
“But seriously, Nat,” said Mum, “maybe it’s time to start winding this whole fame thing down and get things back to …”
“Normal?” Nat finished for her, and they both laughed.
No one at school believed Nat when she said she didn’t want to be famous any more. It didn’t matter how many times she said she was fed up with being stared, pointed and laughed at – she still got stared, pointed and laughed at.
And now everyone expected her to like it.
At lunch that day, Nat went to track down Penny, who she was pretty sure had been avoiding her. But even Penny didn’t have much sympathy.
“Everyone’s just waiting to see what mad stuff you get up to next,” explained Penny with a thin smile.
“I want to do something important – I’m trying to save this pets’ home,” said Nat for the seventh time that day, “but everyone just wants me to act like a fool.”
“At least people think you’re funny,” said Penny, examining her lunch for anything edible. “It could be worse.”
Nat felt a cold shiver run down her spine. “Funny?” she said. “I hate people laughing at me.”
“I thought you’d be used to it by now, especially with your dad.”
“Thanks,” said Nat.
“I’m just saying, no one’s ever gonna take you seriously when you’re famous for being …” Penny hunted for the right expression.
“Famous for being what?” growled Nat.
But before Penny could reply, a heavenly scent drifted across Nat’s table as Flora Marling floated by, with her friends/adoring slaves following behind.
Flora smiled at Nat. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to say – I was in the park last week when you turned on the lights – hilarious, like always. You are totes hilarious.”
“Mmm, totes hilarious. That’s the expression I was looking for,” said Penny under her breath.
“And then that bath bomb video – wow, you are so brave. That’s edgy comedy.”
“I like edgy,” squeaked Nat.
“And now you’re doing the whole ‘Oh, I don’t wanna be famous, stop looking at me’ thing. That’s SOOOO clever.”
“I actually mean it,” said Nat.
“Course you do,” said Flora. “Still on for Saturday?”
“Yes, please,” said Nat too quickly and then, desperately trying to play it cool, added, “you know, if I’m not doing something … edgy.”
“You know what you sound like?” said Penny, after Flora had gone.
Yup, I sound like a girl who’s going to Flora Marling’s mega secret pool party sleepover, thought Nat happily.
But then another voice in her head, that sounded a bit like Darius’s, said: “No, you sound like a spanner.”
“It’s not my fault,” said Nat with a sigh. “I really am trying not to be famous any more. I’m sick of it.”
“Well, you should have thought of that before you started your ugly scrabble for celebrity,” said Penny, pushing back her chair.
“My ugly what?” said Nat, annoyed.
“You’ve lost your grip on reality. Instead your life’s becoming like some terrible reality show,” said Penny, storming off.
Back home later, Nat was telling Darius about her row with Penny.
“She said my life was like a reality show. Can you believe it?” said Nat, still offended.
“Your life’s too boring to be a reality show,” said Darius. “If you were a bounty hunter or a pirate or a masked wrestler or a champion hot-dog eater, THEN it might be worth watching. But it’s boring boring boring.”
“No, those reality shows generally are quite boring,” said Nat.
Nat noticed a strange look come over Darius’s face.
It was strange because it was unusual.
It was Darius thinking.
“What?” said Nat.
“Nothing,” said Darius with a grin. “You get any of those stupid vloggers to help us?”
“Not yet,” muttered Nat.
It wasn’t quite true – she had got one reply, from Doom Ninja Pete. It wasn’t what she’d hoped for either. His message said:
Hey Nat the Normal, or shd I call u bumhole bath bomb? :) :)
Would <3 to help out with ugly pets.
Which ones wd u like me to blow up?
Darius flicked a bogey at the wall expertly. “Well as you’re still the most famous person we’ve got, you’ll have to do the Dosh-a-Thon if you can’t find someone else.”
“I’m sure someone will get back to me. They’re just very busy people,” said Nat.
“Oh yeah, takes ages to watch movies or put make-up on or film yourself putting Ricicles up your nose,” said Darius.
“I’m going to my room,” said Nat huffily. “If you have anything useful to say, put it on a postcard. And address it to my bum.”
With that she walked off, feeling quite pleased with her parting shot.
Behind her, Darius smiled.
HE NEXT MORNING, NAT CAME DOWNSTAIRS and caught Darius in the living room looking at her phone.
She snatched it off him.
“Why are you looking up Penny Posnitch’s number?” she asked, reading the screen.
“She wanted help with her maths,” said Darius.
“Fibber. I’m the only person who knows you’re good at maths. You spend most lessons hanging upside down in the book cupboard. What are you up to?”
Darius grinned. “Nothing,” he said, walking out of the room.
Nat had quite a good day at school, surprisingly. She thought her fame might be wearing off at last because she was only teased about it seven times.
She spent her breaks chatting with the other chosen few who were going to Flora Marling’s mega awesome secret pool party sleepover.
This must be what it’s like to actually BE normal, she thought as they discussed what shoes and tops they were going to wear. It was a bit dull, but it didn’t really matter as long as it meant she was still a little bit popular.
Every so often she caught sight of Penny, hovering about in the background, playing with her phone.
Poor girl, thought Nat with a sigh. I used to be on the outside too. Maybe I should try and include her? But when she caught Penny’s eye and beckoned to her, Penny shuffled away guiltily.
When Nat got home that evening, she overheard Darius on the phone in the kitchen.
“The footage you sent is all rubbish,” Darius was saying. “It’s all shoes and tops and blah blah blah. I’m falling asleep. No one’s gonna watch this.”
Nat paused outside the kitchen door. She loved a good eavesdrop. She wond
ered what the heck he was talking about.
“I can’t take out the boring bits,” said Darius. “If I take out the boring bits I haven’t got a show, cos it’s all boring bits.”
Nat leaned forward too far and accidentally opened the door with her head.
Darius threw the phone into the sink.
“What are you up to?” said Nat suspiciously.
“Talking to a vlogger about the Dosh-a-Thon,” said Darius quickly.
“Good luck with that,” said Nat. “No one’s got back to me. It’s almost as if they don’t care.”
She left Darius to it and went upstairs. She had important decisions to make. About tops and shoes. As she was going upstairs, she thought she heard Darius say: “Fine, get more people involved if that’s what it takes.”
Huh, maybe he’s found someone to do the Dosh-a-Thon after all, thought Nat hopefully as she closed the door to her room.
That night Nat dreamed that Darius came into her room and pinched her mobile phone. It seemed ever so real, right up until the moment he turned into a monkey and swung out of the room on the lightshade.
When she actually woke up the next morning, her phone was still there. Although it was unplugged and she was sure she’d left it charging …
The next day at school was not normal. It was not boring.
You couldn’t make this stuff up, thought Nat, when she finally got away.
Of course, she was wrong. All day, everyone around her seemed to be running or shouting or pointing. It was worse than the WAKE UP!!!! days.
At break, everything she said was either:
“AWESOME!”
Or:
“AMAZEBALLS, NATHALIA!”
Or:
“TOTALLY HURTFUL, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT TO ME. I’LL NEVER FORGIVE YOU EVER!”
It was just as bad in class as out. Even something as simple as handing out French vocab sheets turned into a drama.
“It’s always me who has to do that, Miss,” wailed Julia Pryde, leaving her desk and standing next to Nat for no apparent reason. “Isn’t that right, Nathalia?”
Nat shrugged. “I dunno,” she said. She was still trying to sneakily finish her French homework and was rather hoping no one would look at her.